


Timetable

by likehandlingroses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18341570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: Already facing the worst birthday of his life, Percy is confronted by a disgruntled Viktor Krum.  The unexpected visit holds the key to helping them both find a new path forward.





	Timetable

Percy had never expected that all his aspirations would be dead by his twentieth birthday. But here it was, and Percy couldn’t think of a single thing that was going right.

The Minister--his mentor, the man he’d trusted over his own family--had been wrong. Hopelessly, devastatingly wrong, and for no good reason.

Percy had gone over the past year dozens of times, trying to see it from every angle. Some vantage points still vindicated his choices: he’d been right, after all. Fudge hadn’t minded that Percy wasn’t speaking to his family. He _hadn’t_ hired Percy as a human wiretap, and it _had_ been insulting for Father to suggest it…no, Percy certainly hadn’t started the argument. No matter how you sliced it, he’d had every intention of making everyone happy. Was it his fault for not appreciating why his parents had changed attitudes so radically?

But from other angles, Percy could only see his choices in a rather pathetic light. He’d shouted like a child, and an ungrateful one, at that. How would he have seen it, if Fred or George or Ron had treated their parents’ concerns with such arrogant, violent dismissal? And, if he was being truthful with himself, the holes in Fudge’s logic had been apparent from the start.

It might have been easier if he could choose an angle, if he could pinpoint what the truth was. But details were beginning to blur, and Percy wasn’t sure he could trust his own perceptions. Clearly, they’d been wrong before.

He was stuck, and he didn’t have the first idea how to get himself unstuck. He’d hoped, for the first few weeks, that someone would come by and tell him “I told you so.” That would have helped get things moving. But Father still ignored him during their chance encounters at work, and so far he hadn’t received any nasty mail from the twins.

Mum sent a birthday card, but that only had the effect of making Percy wish he’d never been born. He put it on his desk, fueled by a morbid sense of duty, as well as a desperate, fanciful hope that it might provoke him into action.

He’d hardly finished tossing the envelope when he looked up to see a scowling figure standing a few feet inside of the doorway. Percy had been told by many during the Triwizard Tournament that Viktor Krum was “particular;” he’d never been able to ascertain what they meant.

He certainly wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of finding out on what was already shaping up to be the worst birthday of his life.

“Can I help you?” he said, barely containing the sigh in his voice. Viktor nodded, sulking over to Percy’s desk.

Despite his clear frustration, Viktor’s voice never rose beyond a grumble as he explained to Percy that he was being asked to reapply for residency privileges.

“This letter they sent me is not explaining anything,” he said, pushing the letter onto his desk.

When Percy coolly suggested he speak to International Affairs about the mix-up, Viktor’s lips turned up at the corners.

“I went there first,” he said. “But they are telling me to speak with you. So now we are going in circles.”

Percy had been about to protest that he had no idea why they’d have sent such a case over to administration, when he remembered Scrimgeour’s recent initiative to examine all residents who had attended Durmstrang. Potential radicals, he called them. As if Hogwarts hadn’t bred more than its fair share of dark witches and wizards...

All reapplications were to go through the Minister and the Auror’s office. Only then could the international office move to update their paperwork.

They’d covered all of it in their last inter-departmental meeting. How had he forgotten?

Percy’s eyes caught his mother’s card, and he turned red.

“You’re correct, of course, ” he managed, his voice shaking. “I’m so sorry, I’d forgotten...we’ve had quite a few changes in the past few months.”

Viktor sat forward in his chair.

“It isn’t your fault,” he said. “The people who are making these changes...they pass them down without caring for anyone else’s time.”

Percy’s chest puffed out, more out of habit than real indignance. He never should have made such a comment to a customer...if word got out that he was _that_ sort of employee, he’d really be on the outs.

“Minister Scrimgeour works longer hours than anyone else in the Ministry,” he insisted. “I’m sure of that.”

Viktor, who looked quite content now that he knew he wouldn’t be shunted off to another department, cocked his head to the side.

“You are sure of this because he is boasting about it, or you are sure because you are here with him all these hours?” Viktor raised one of his eyebrows and shrugged. “In either case, I am thinking he does not work more than you.”

Percy stared at Viktor, knowing he had precisely three seconds before he’d be expected to reply. Three seconds was an eternity, if you knew what you were doing. Percy could speak on the fly to foreign dignitaries, to distraught department heads, to the Minister of Magic himself…

He hadn’t bothered to learn a three second strategy for a man he’d just realized was disarmingly attractive.

“Well...let me get you the proper paperwork,” he stammered, clocking in at a wretched five and half seconds. “It’s a simple process, really...just a formality…”

He shuffled through file cabinets with more gusto than he needed to, as if the extra hand gestures would keep him from shouting out something that was most definitely _not_ permitted under current human resource guidelines.

“I appreciate your help with this,” Viktor said as Percy handed him a pile of forms. “Mr…?”

“Percy,” he replied, too loudly. “I mean...my name is Percy Weasley.”

“And I call you?”

_Whatever you like._

“Percy is perfectly fine.”

Viktor nodded and held out his hand.

“Viktor.”

Percy was going to have to calendar in the next Magical Games and Sports event.  

* * *

 

When Viktor saw Percy enter the hall, his first instinct was to find a corner where he could forget that they were in the same room. These sort of events were difficult enough without having to worry about running into the man he’d caught feelings for.

As he quickly realized, Percy wasn’t the sort of person you could pretend didn’t exist. His voice carried, and it seemed like he was determined to talk to everyone in attendance. His confidence was dizzying; he flitted about, speaking to perfect strangers, like it was nothing.  

It was the sort of behavior Viktor had always associated with charlatans and leeches. But each time Viktor had met with Percy regarding his residency papers, he’d received nothing but sincere, thorough help, from beginning to end.

Still, Viktor thought. That was Percy’s job. It didn’t mean anything, and it wasn’t fair to Percy for Viktor to nurse feelings for him.

“Viktor!” Percy called out, hastening to greet him at the corner table Viktor had been hiding at for the past half hour. “Wonderful to see you. I hope you’re well?”

Viktor mumbled the expected “yes; and you?” If Percy was put off by his stiffness, he didn’t show it. He said something about being quite well, thank you...and Viktor prepared himself for Percy to move on to the next attendee.

Instead, Percy indicated the chair next to the one Viktor had just been sitting in.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

“No.”

“Would you mind if I joined you?” Percy asked. Viktor shook his head, and that was all the invitation Percy needed to plop down into the chair.

“To tell you the truth, I really don’t spend much time at Magical Games and Sports,” he explained to Viktor once they were both seated. “I hardly know anyone here.”

“You were talking to everyone like you knew them well,” Viktor said, before realizing he’d just revealed entirely too much about what he’d been paying attention to that evening.

“Yes, well...that’s sometimes the job, isn’t it?” Percy said, grinning at Viktor. “Make the rounds, then find who you really want to talk to.”

Viktor blinked. He didn’t have much experience in romantic matters, but he was fairly sure he heard an insinuation in Percy’s voice.

“And that is me?” he asked, hoping his tone carried the same insinuation. To his dismay, Percy sat back in his seat.

“If you have someone else you’re wanting to meet with--”

“--no, no!” Viktor interrupted. “This kind of party...I go because they ask. I give myself one hour, then I am leaving through the back door.”

“Oh.” Percy’s brow was furrowed.  “And how far into your hour are you, exactly?”

Viktor almost looked up at the clock before realizing that was entirely beside the point.

“Well, if you are staying...that makes a difference.”


End file.
